Evergreen
by anubislover
Summary: A series of one-shots based around the adorable Ivy Pepper! All pre-cannon, please read and review!
1. Mata Hari

Lackadaisy belongs to the amazing Tracy J. Butler, not me. She's simply nice enough to let her fans write fanfiction about her characters.

So, I meant to start this forever and an age ago, but life got in the way. I adore Ivy, and someone suggested some Ivy one shots, so here's the first. Enjoy!

Girl Talk

Sitting alone in the corner booth of the Little Daisy Café, Ivy stared out the window at the passing pedestrians. The lunchtime rush was winding down, allowing Atlas' gang to inhabit most of the surrounding booths, chatting and laughing so loud one could scarcely hear themselves think. On most days the vibrant young lady would be in the thick of it all, asking the men about their latest adventures, showing off her new shoes, or perhaps teasing Viktor about his fashion sense (or lack thereof). But today, none of the men could get her to so much as smile in their direction, and had collectively agreed to leave her be for the moment.

Mitzi, however, had been keeping an eye on her the whole time, a worried crinkle settling on her usually flawless face. She knew that something was up with her little helper, and when not even the crazy new violinist, Rocky, had managed to coax a laugh from her, she knew it was something big. And if her women's intuition was right (and it always was), Ivy was in desperate need of a female confidant. She only hoped she could help, she didn't have that much experience with teenage girls.

With the majority of the real customers gone and the gang otherwise occupied, the elegant hostess decided it was time to make her move. She sauntered over to the little corner booth carrying a plate of chocolate cake and a glass of milk.

"Penny for your thoughts, sweetie?"

Ivy glanced at her, then back at the street. "It's nothing, Ms. M. I'm fine."

Not to be fooled, she set the cake on the table and slid into the seat across from her. "Bull. Honey, anybody can see something's bothering you. Now come on, let's hear it."

Ivy sighed. "Well, yeah it's something, but I don't know why it's such a big deal. It's not like he'll ever notice me anyway…"

Mitzi blinked, then smiled. "Ah, so it's boy trouble." Ok, _this_ was something she could handle. Maternal instincts she may lack, but knowledge of men? That she had in abundance. Her tone turned teasing, "So who is this dashing rogue who's stolen away your heart?"

Ivy fiddled with a fork, glancing over to Atlas' table. "I don't wanna say, Viktor might overhear, and you know how protective he gets!"

Stifling a laugh, the former singer patted her hand affectionately. "Don't worry, those men are so clueless there could be a circus in the middle of the floor and they wouldn't notice. Now who is this mystery man? I'm aquiver with anticipation!"

Finally nibbling on a bite of cake, Ivy looked slightly dreamy. "Chris, the delivery boy. He has such a nice smile." Her face then twisted into a pout. "But he always treats me like I'm a little kid, even though he's only a few years older than me!"

Mitzi _tsked_ sympathetically. "Boys. They never see what's right in front of their noses until you whack them with a rolled up newspaper." She stole a bite of the cake. She was actually rather enjoying herself. She and Atlas had never really talked about having children, but she was, in a way, relishing this odd sort of mother-daughter bonding one could only get from a young lady confiding about her latest crush.

"So how do I get him to see me?" the teen griped. "He's such a nice fella, but he always looks at me like I'm just another kid!"

"Well," she mused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, "I'd try dressing up for him a bit. After all, the first time Atlas really noticed me was when I was preforming in the Mata Hari dress; he couldn't take his eyes off me! You have some nice clothes, and I'm sure I have a few frocks that would fit you if you'd like." Now she really felt like a mother, lending the girl her old dresses in hopes of helping along her love life. It was becoming strangely gratifying.

Ivy immediately perked up. "You mean it?"

Mitzi chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Only if you finish your cake." The girl immediately started eating with gusto. "I'd also suggest you talk to him, show him you're a grown woman and that he should treat you as one. You'll get his respect, and you'll certainly get his attention."

Within minutes, Ivy was done with her cake, wiping the crumbs off her chin. "Ms. M., how do you know he'll listen?"

"How could he not? You're a beautiful, strong-willed young woman. What man could resist?" Getting up, she carried the now clean plate over to the counter, only to nearly drop it when Ivy excitedly hugged her.

"Ms. M. you're the best!" With that the girl dashed upstairs, leaving a smiling hostess in her wake.

She turned at a small cough from across the room. "So, what was that all about?" Atlas asked jovially. The men, having seen Ivy excitedly run off, had finally turned away from their shop-talk.

A rather mischievous smile found its way to her full lips. "Oh, she just needed advice on how to look more womanly."

"Vhy she need to do that?" Viktor growled, green eye glaring. Even Mordecai seemed vaguely interested. It wasn't often that Atlas' little ray of sunshine looked so gloomy, and he was curious as to why the girl would want to look more adult.

Before she could answer, Ivy's voice called down the stairs, "Ms. M. do you thing Chris'd notice me if I wore the Mata Hari dress?"

It was then that Mitzi May witnessed a rather amusing spectacle. Atlas' cigar fell from his mouth, Zib choked on his drink, Mordecai started reaching for his gun, and Viktor got the murderous look in his eye. She couldn't help but laugh. Well, this relationship was already on its way to disaster, but she'd be more than happy to help out the young lady again. After all, sometimes a woman needs to play mother.

XXX

Whoot! I had this written in my notebook forever, but finally managed to type it up. It also helps that I'm wearing my 1920s reporter/gangster costume and listening to the _Chicago_ soundtrack while writing, it really helps put me in the mood! So, hopefully this will be just the first in a series of one shots revolving around Ivy. My plan is for them to be based on memories Mordecai mentioned in my other story, "The Message." Read that if you want an idea as to the other one-shots, or feel free to make new suggestions, I'll gladly take them into account! Please review!


	2. May I Have This Dance?

I'm back! So, I'd like to thank the-mighty-pen325 for being my first reviewer! I hope you like this one. :)

May I Have This Dance?

The venomous glare that Ivy was giving them would have caused lesser men to run away screaming. Fortunately for them, Mordecai and Viktor were not lesser men. Instead, the two simply stood before her in stony silence. Realizing the two dangerous rumrunners were not cowering before her wrath, the girl grew even angrier.

"What exactly were you two doing?"

Mordecai gave her a bored look. "I am certain that Viktor and I haven't the slightest notion as to what you are referring to."

Growling, Ivy gave him a sharp poke to the chest. "Oh yes you do! I was having a perfectly nice time with Charlie, and you two jerks went and scared him off!"

Viktor snorted. "Boy was already vydesený králik, we did nothing."

Redirecting her wrath, she turned her full attention to her bodyguard. "Oh really? Then why did he run off like that right after you two asked to "speak" with him?"

"We simply wished to get to know your…_date_ a bit better. In doing so, he was reminded of a rather urgent appointment that he had to attend." Mordecai said, nonchalantly inspecting his nails for dirt.

Ivy could feel a headache coming on. Did they really think she was that stupid? Rubbing her temples, she growled, "An appointment. At 2 am?" She snorted in a most unladylike manner. "Who schedules appointments for 2 in the morning?"

"Never said králik was bright," Viktor said snidely. There was even the faintest hint of a smirk on the Slovak man's face.

Ivy wanted to scream in frustration. This was the third time they'd scared away her date, and they wouldn't even admit to it! Honestly, it wasn't like she was getting married or anything, she just wanted someone to dance with and have fun! And now the band was playing one of her favorite songs, and those two overprotective, inconsiderate jerks had left her no one to dance with! Why, she had half a mind to—

An evil grin slowly slid across her normally sunny and sweet face. Viktor blinked in surprise while Mordecai looked nonplussed. Quickly, before the triggerman could react, Ivy grabbed Mordecai's wrist and started dragging him onto the dance floor.

"Ms. Pepper, what do you think you are doing?" he asked, attempting to twist out of her grip with as much dignity as possible. Unfortunately, Viktor had taken it upon himself a few months ago to show her some self-defense moves, so her hold was surprisingly firm, and there was really no way out without hurting her. So before he knew it they were among the swarm of dancers with no way out.

His captor gave him her most honey-sweet smile. "Well Mr. Heller, since you and your partner have taken it upon yourselves to deny me my original dance partner, I've decided that it's only fair if one of you take his place. And since Viktor can't dance, I guess that leaves you by default!" With a mischievous grin, she put his hands on her waist. "Now, you do know the Charleston, right?"

And expression close to horror made its way into his eyes, and he desperately glanced across the room to his partner, silently willing Viktor to rescue him. To his dismay, the large Slav was presently indisposed, being too busy bent over himself laughing at his predicament.

Muttering to himself that he'd make Viktor pay dearly, he turned his green eyes back to Ivy. Sighing, he grumbled, "May I have this dance?"

After all, there were worse fates than dancing the night away with a pretty girl, even if he did vow to get her back for this.

XXX

Thanks for reading, please review! I hope to have the next one up soon! Oh, and _vydesený králik_ means "frightened rabbit," while _králik_ just means "rabbit."


	3. Dress Dilemma

So, here's the next chapter, though I do wish I could get more feedback from people. I'd love suggestions, or maybe just a quick note telling me how I'm doing. Come on, people, if you don't tell me how I'm doing, how will I know whether or not to continue this?

Dress Dilemma

"Happy Birthday Ivy," Atlas said, placing a neatly wrapped package on her lap and a kiss on her temple. He'd gone all-out with his goddaughter's 15th birthday, filling the swinging speakeasy with music, dancing, and all sorts of other revelry. The underground wellspring echoed with the sound of laughter and music, and Ivy had been sure to be in the thick of it all night, dancing and chatting with just about everyone she recognized. All the regular patrons had been sure to wish her a happy birthday, knowing that the infamous philanthropist/bootlegger Atlas May would not be happy if his favorite goddaughter was not showered with attention and admiration.

Ivy grinned excitedly at the parcel. She'd already gotten a lovely pearl necklace from Mitzi, a scarf from Viktor, a syrup bottle from Rocky (she didn't ask, it was Rocky), and a fedora from Zib. He said she'd need it for when she inevitably joined the gang. Atlas had given the musician a stern look at that comment, but it was diminished by Ivy's bright and hopeful look. Surprisingly, even Mordecai and Mr. Sweet had given her some rather nice presents; a Sherlock Holms book and a pair of earrings respectively. But it was Atlas' gift she had been looking forward to all night.

Maybe it was because he didn't have any children of his own, but Atlas always went out of his way to spoil her whenever he thought he could get away with it. Last year he'd given her a brand new rifle made just for her, and the year before a beautiful music box that played _Scheherazade _by Rimsky-Korsakov. Her parents would sometime complain that he was going overboard, but he always waved it off, telling them, "At least I didn't get her a pony."

Unable to hold off any longer, she tore open the package with the eagerness of a child. An elated squeal burst from her lips as she held up one of the most beautiful dresses she'd ever seen. It was the latest style of flapper dress, with topaz beads that glittered and sparkled like tiny suns. The hem went past her knees, but it was cut into sections, allowing her all the movement she might need for the latest wild dances. Also in the box was a matching feathered headband, and Ivy was certain she had a pair of shoes that would go perfectly.

Atlas gave a surprised "Oof!" as his excited goddaughter knocked the wind out of him. Ivy was small, but he had to admit that she could be a football player with the way she hugged.

"Thank you so much, Uncle Atlas! Thank you thank you _thank you!_" He doubted even the new dress could outshine the radiant smile she was beaming at him. "I absolutely love it! I can't believe you got me this!"

He had to laugh. "Really? Why wouldn't I? It's a godfather's job to spoil his only goddaughter, you can ask anyone. But I'm glad you like it." Yup, that smile was well worth the price of the dress. Not that it mattered to him, of course.

Positively giddy, Ivy wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him another tight hug. "I promise, I'll only wear this on special occasions! In fact, I'll wear it on my first date!" With a kiss to his cheek, she happily skipped off into the crowd to ask Zib to play another dance number.

A loud guffaw sounded behind him, and Atlas turned to its source. "Something funny, Asa?"

Asa Sweet shook his head, squinty eyes watering a bit. "Careful Atlas, that girl's going to be a real heartbreaker someday soon!"

Atlas allowed himself a small chuckle. "Well, I can't say I'd blame any boy for falling head over heels for my girl, but I'm sure she'll be fine. Boys won't be an issue."

He smirked. "I just hope I'll be here to see the heart attack."

Two months later, it was another busy night at the Lackadaisy, and Atlas and Asa were playing poker at one of the corner tables. Nothing particularly extraordinary had happened until his opponent looked up and said, "Well look who's here!"

Atlas turned and almost dropped his winning hand. Ivy stood before him, dressed to the nines in the birthday dress. He hadn't noticed when it was on the hanger just how low the neckline was, or how much thigh the slits flashed. He briefly wondered if he could trade it for a more modest one without Ivy noticing. Like a nun's outfit.

Ivy seemed oblivious to his horror. "Hi Uncle Atlas!" She pecked him on the cheek, then wrapped her arms around the tall, rather good-looking boy standing next to her. "This is Chris!" She didn't need to say more.

After she had dragged the older boy onto the dance floor, St. Louis' finest entrepreneur turned to Viktor. "I'll give you a raise, a vacation, anything; take care of this!" The large man nodded, already forming ideas as to how he would "take care of" this new development.

Returning his attention to the game, he found Asa giving him a smug look.

"Oh shut up, Sweet."

XXX

There's very little on Atlas in any of the comics, so I pretty much had to go with my gut on this one. As you can probably tell, these all are pre-cannon, and somewhat loosely connected, but they're all designed to stand alone. Either way this one was fun to write, and I've already started on the next one. For those of you who might be getting sick of the whole "Ivy's date doesn't go well" theme, I promise, then next one will have nothing to do with dating! For those of you who live for that theme, I promise this isn't the last one, but I'm trying to diversify. Please review, reviews fuel my need to write!


	4. Sherlock

I'm back! *looks around sheepishly* Well it seems a few people reviewed, which I am quite pleased with! It's good to know that people are enjoying my silly drabbles. So, sorry this has taken so long to get up; I'd written about half of this in a notebook over a month ago, but I couldn't find the drive to type/finish it until now. So, hopefully I'll be able to come up with another one soon. Please enjoy, and be sure to review!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Lackadaisy, but it's probably a good thing since I don't really know a whole lot about the 1920s. Seriously, I've learned more about the Prohibition Era from a comic about anthromorphic cats than I have from any American History class I've ever taken. How sad is that?

Sherlock

The room was a mess; pillows and sheets were strewn across the floor, chairs were overturned, drawers were emptied, and clothes were everywhere. At any other time Mordecai would have a heart attack at the sight of his room in such disarray. However, that didn't matter as he was already having a heart attack as he tore the room apart.

"Where are they? Where the devil are they?" he growled frantically, emptying yet another dresser drawer onto the floor and sifting through its contents. He'd kill the cleaning lady for this. He'd told Atlas he was perfectly capable of keeping his own dwelling in order, but his cutthroat employer had had insisted on hiring him a maid. "Business is booming, and I can't afford you spending more time ironing your socks than doing jobs for me," he'd said calmly when Mordecai had tried to protest.

To be honest, Mordecai typically found that he didn't mind her as much as he thought he would. Mrs. Shimkus was a pleasant elderly lady who took care of the dusting and vacuuming, and she was always cooking him meals when he was home. She would often joke that he was the easiest man she'd ever worked for, given his obsession with cleaning up after himself. His only real irritation was that due to her age and poor memory she'd occasionally misplace his possessions. A few weeks before it was one of his ties; the week before that his new box of bullets. Never anything major, and he usually found them again fairly quickly, but it was always enough to drive an anal-retentive man like him into a panic. But this time, she had misplaced something far more valuable than those mere trifles.

"What are you looking for?" a voice from the door chirped. He looked up to find Ivy standing over him, staring curiously at the mess.

"My cufflinks," he grumbled, resuming his search. He was beginning to despair that he'd never find them. They had been a gift from Atlas, a reward for his first successful job. They were his most treasured possession, a symbol that he had finally extracted himself from the gutter and become a part of something great.

"Oh." The girl was silent for a minute, then said, "Would you like some help?"

His head jerked up so quickly he nearly suffered whiplash. "What?"

"Would you," she said slowly, pointing at him, "like me," the finger turned back to herself, "to help?" she pantomimed looking around with a magnifying glass.

He sneered at her at her sass. Did she consider him some sort of fool? Honestly of all the gall…but he was at the end of his rope. What harm could she do at this point? "Fine. But don't touch anything."

She glanced around the trashed room before raising an eyebrow quizzically. Still, she made no comment, instead trotting over to the other side of the room, hopping over the scattered clothes and pillows. She dropped to the floor and started looking underneath the desk.

"You know," she called over after a few minutes, "I'd thought that you'd be looking for your marbles."

Mordecai started searching through his coat pockets. "Ms. Pepper, I assure you, I do not, and never have, possessed any marbles."

Her girlish laughter grated on his nerves. "Oh, that explains so much!"

He growled in warning, and her giggles eventually ceased. "How did you get in here, anyway?" he asked tartly.

Ivy started looking under his discarded shirts. "Oh, Mrs. Shimkus let me in. I wanted your advice on getting a gift for Viktor. His birthday is coming up, and I want to give him something nice, but I'm completely lost on what to get him."

Humming in acknowledgement, he began searching the floor of his closet. "Well, I wouldn't recommend bullets. He has plenty of those, and if he ever runs out he can always restock on the job. The only issue is removing them from his person without damaging them."

She jumped up and glowered at him. "Don't even joke about things like that!"

He merely gave her a deadpan look. "You asked my advice, Ms. Pepper. Now, are you going to keep chattering or are you going to make yourself useful?"

"You're the one who asked the question," she grumbled as she knelt on the floor. As she did so, she started thinking mean thoughts about the triggerman. Mordecai was such a killjoy, so stuffy and all business. He never took the time to relax or enjoy himself, and he never seemed interested in letting other people have fun. He was like those prohibition officers, always ruining someone's day when they wanted to kick back and enjoy themselves. That's why she was so glad they'd never find the Lackadaisy. She giggled to herself; those dummies were so pathetic, only thinking to look on the surface. They never thought that there might be something hidden underground. Then it hit her. Mordecai had searched all the places he could think of, but only on the surface. So the most logical place for her to search was…

"Found them!" she shouted, opening the heater grate in the floor next to the desk. Luckily it was turned off, so she reached in and retrieved two gold cufflinks, only the a bit grimy from their stay underground.

Mordecai rushed over to inspect them, then immediately began polishing them up. When they gleamed to his satisfaction, he spared her a glance. "How did you find them?"

She beamed. "It was easy! If there's one thing I learned from Arthur Conan Doyle, it's that sometimes things are hidden best in plain sight! That grate's so obvious, but you never thought to look there because you see it so often that it doesn't register in your mind! It's like how the police never think to check the Little Daisy; it's too unassuming!" She left out the part where she compared him to the police; she did have some sense of self-preservation.

He took a moment to process this, then graced her with a minute upwards quirk of the lips. "Well, Ms. Pepper, I do appreciate your help. It is good that you have managed to gain knowledge from literature outside of magazines. And I am most grateful," he said, the quirk almost forming a tiny grin, "that you are on our side. I don't think that Atlas' empire would last too long if the prohibition officers had you as a detective."

She stared at him, dumbfounded. "Did…did you just make a joke?" she asked, not quite believing it. Mordecai with a sense of humor? Preposterous!

He busied himself with carefully placing the cufflinks in the little drawer in his night table. No sense losing them again after all the trouble they went through just to find them. "Don't be absurd. I was simply making an observation as to your possible future professional endeavors. But I strongly advise against it; it would be a pity to be forced to end your career before it even starts."

Ivy shook her head in exasperation. There was the Mordecai she knew; stoic, stuffy, professional, and incredibly creepy. "Whatever. Do you need any help cleaning up?"

They both eyed the room with trepidation. The triggerman had certainly made a mess of the place. But unlike Ivy, Mordecai would not allow himself to simply stuff everything under the bed and call it a day; messiness reminded him too much of the tenements. "I will manage on my own. However, you did come here for a specific purpose, yes?" He rolled up his sleeves. "I will assist you in your endeavor to find a suitable gift for Viktor when I had straightened things out. In the meantime, go to the kitchen and inform Mrs. Shimkus that she is to bake you some cookies. Consider it your reward for locating my cufflinks."

She squealed happily, ignoring the way Mordecai's ears flattened at the sound. Mrs. Shimkus made fantastic cookies. She hurried to the kitchen, her shoes tapping and squeaking on the polished floorboards. Mordecai shook his head ruefully and began hanging up his clothes.

They never spoke of the incident to anyone else, but for her birthday that year, she received a handsome leather-bound edition of _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes._ And for Hanukah, Mordecai was given a bag of marbles. He never did figure out why.

XXX

Tada! The first in this series that does _Not_ have anything to do with Ivy's dates. It won't be the last, but don't worry, I will definitely have some more boyfriend-scaring in future chapters. There is seriously too much hilarity to be found from those situations to not write about them! So, I'll try to come up with another chapter soon, I'm thinking this time with Zib; he's a highly underused character. And if anyone has any suggestions for future one-shots I would love to hear them! Either way, Review!


	5. Music Man

Here you go! I wrote this because Zib is underappreciated and awesome, and Ivy and he just had to have an adorable friendship moment together! I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Still don't own. Actually I'm happy I don't own since I don't think I could come up with ideas half as awesome as what Ms. Butler has been writing.

Music Man

Zib sat on the underground stage, long legs dangling over the side as he absentmindedly played the saxophone. Old sheet music was carelessly strewn across the polished wood as if the whole pile had been tossed in the air out of frustration. He ignored Ivy as she lifted herself onto the stage, tiny feet dangling next to his. She bobbed her head along to the tune, eyes closed as she took a moment to simply enjoy the sad, slow music. She knew better than to interrupt the man when he was playing, especially during a song like that.

"So, whatcha playing?" she asked after the final note had finished echoing throughout the empty cavern.

He put down the instrument, careful not to dent its polished surface. "At the moment, nothin'. I'm tryin' to figure out what the band should play tonight, but so far I've got nothin'. It feels like we've played everything we know."

She nodded sympathetically. "I know that feeling. There are days when I want to sit back and read, but I feel like I've read every book I own."

"Yeah, and Atlas wants us to play something special tonight."

Brow wrinkling in confusion, she wracked her internal calendar dedicated to special occasions. Nothing was standing out. "What's tonight?"

"His and Mitzi's anniversary."

"I thought that was last month?"

"That was their wedding anniversary. This is the anniversary of the day they met; the day the band first played for him." Zib grimaced at the bittersweet memory. It had been a great show, and Mitzi had never looked better. And sure, it had gotten him and the boys steady work, but in the process he lost Mitzi. Atlas had been smitten by the end of the first song, and what Atlas May wants, he gets.

Ivy frowned at the musician's sour mood. She was probably one of the few people around who noticed Zib's lingering feelings for the proprietress, and it upset her more than she'd like to admit. Zib and Ms. Mitzi reminded her of a sort of tragic fairy tale, where the poor musician loses his lady-love to the dashing and wealthy prince. It was so romantic, the way he stuck around for Ms. Mitzi, even if it meant watching her happily married to another man.

Zib had always been nice to her, playing any song she requested, helping her with her bags when she came to visit, and he once tried to teach her the clarinet. That lesson hadn't gone so well, but it was the thought that counted. He had become like a big brother, trading jokes when she was down or playing a little ditty on the saxophone while she read. He often quipped that he was just trying to stay in her good graces, lest she sic Viktor on him.

She pondered over Zib's current conundrum. "Can't you play a song you haven't done in a while? I'm sure Uncle Atlas won't mind you dusting off a few classics."

"It's not that we can't play an old song, it's that most of the good ones need singers."

Oh. And by singers he meant Ms. Mitzi. That was a problem. The song wouldn't be the same without a singer, and she was probably the only one around who knew the song and was familiar enough with the band's sometimes spontaneous improvisation to not get tripped up. But would Atlas let her sing? She hadn't really sung since they got married, since Atlas felt there was no need for her to perform with the band.

She bit her lip. Ivy loved her godfather, but she wanted Zib to be happy, too. She then had an idea. It wasn't her best one, but…

"What if I asked Uncle Atlas to let Ms. Mitzi sing tonight?"

Zib jerked in surprise and nearly fell off the stage. His spindly limbs flailed comically for a moment, desperately trying to keep upright. Finally he managed to regain his balance, though more sheet music fluttered to the floor. He stared at her in disbelief. "You're kidding, right kid?"

She frowned at being called a kid but held her ground. "Well, I could tell him that if it's the anniversary of when they first met, he should recreate it by having her sing with you guys. Besides," she smirked, "when has he refused me anything?"

Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, Zib tried and failed to find fault in her logic. Damn brat had to be right about everything, didn't she? Still, the thought of having Mitzi back on stage, singing her heart out while he and the band played like there was no tomorrow did bring a hint of a smile to his face.

"I guess if anyone can do it, it'd be you. Fine, talk to the boss man, I'll try to pick out a few pieces she'll likely still remember." He reached out and ruffled her bobbed hair. "If this works, I guess I'll owe you one."

Running her fingers through her locks in hopes of making them neat again, she gave him a smile. "Hey, this could be my only chance to hear Ms. Mitzi sing with you guys! What say we call it even?"

They shook hands and Ivy hopped off the stage, determined to put her plan in motion while there was still time for the band to practice. Zib chuckled and shook his head. As much as he envied Atlas for all his money and his marriage to Mitzi, he had to admit he was happy he came to the Little Daisy, and it not just because of the steady paycheck.

XXX

Shorter than I had originally planned, but I think it's cute. So, I have a conundrum; on one level I want to make a chapter about Ivy and Viktor. On another level I don't because so many people have done amazing stories about those two and I don't think I can measure up. At least with the stuff I have been doing no one has written about them, or at least not many people have, so I have less to compare myself to. What do you all think? Should I go for it, or should I keep writing about other characters?


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